Your forbidden fruit? Now I'm intrigued
by Grimmster4life
Summary: Our favourite evil queen as somebody else's favourite English teacher. Student x teacher relationship. Rated T just to be safe, not particularly explicit but I hope you enjoy it all the same.


You're so relieved. It's the last lesson of the day and then it's the weekend. You're so excited that you almost forget you have english with _her_.

I mean there's nothing wrong with your English teacher. She knows what she's talking about and the lessons definitely aren't boring, not for you anyway considering you spend most of your time staring at her ass in those tight pencil skirts. You swear she does it to punish you. However, you also swear she doesn't even know you exist.

It's also not as if all the teachers in your school are ugly, causing you to pay more attention to her. Miss French the literature teacher could definitely be classed as pretty. The same goes for the gym teacher Miss Lucas. Except unlike Miss French, Miss Lucas' outfits were a bit too close to R-rated for your taste. No that you were looking, other things had currently caught your attention,

Miss Mills however? Miss Mills was simply sin personified. Someone sent down from heaven, or more likely hell, to test your faith in god. It felt like torture every time she walked past, having to restrain yourself from reaching out to touch. Whilst that would be wildly inappropriate, you have a feeling she'd smirk to herself before reprimanding you, happy to have another student under her spell. That's the thing about Miss Mills. Anytime one of the many dumb jocks of my school fell over them selves trying to peek down her shirt, she'd just smirk and wave it off. Last year someone tried to grab her and she got them expelled before you could blink, so we all learnt to look but not touch.

Whilst that sounds relatively easy, it wasn't just her body that draws you in. It was her voice. A deep, husky tone that drew you in close, just to throw you out like garbage, knowing you'd always come back for more. It was her eyes. A deep mocha brown that swirled with emotions, flashing like lightning with anger when she was particularly pissed off. It was her lips. Plump and deep red, looking so juicy you wished you could take a bite.

There wasn't one single thing that you could pick out about her that attracted you the most. It was all of her. From the small, yet extremely sexy, scar above her lip to the luscious curve of her hips in the dresses she wears. It was all of her. There wasn't one thing that turned you off. Every single feature was attractive in its own way. But all of it together? It was like a poison to the immune system, protecting you from threat. The attraction to her crept upon you until, before you knew it, you were suffocating in a pool of your own lust.

This thought process lead you to where you are now, standing frozen just outside her classroom. You knew you were over reacting, you took a deep breath in and entered the room. You cringed when the door slammed behind you, _her_ head snapping to look at you immediately. You snapped yourself out of of your Miss Mills induced trance before you were sucked in too deep and found yourself a seat at the back of the room.

Only now where you able to take in what _she_ was wearing. A deep blue dress that clung to her curves like a second skin with a slit on the left up to her mid thigh. And what nice thighs they were. You had no idea how she got away with what she wore. Maybe principle Nolan was under her spell too. The class still wasn't full yet so you were relatively alone in the back corner. That is, until Miss Mills thought now would be a good time for a chat.

Her dress rode up as she walked, the slit on her dress rising to the top of her thigh. The pen you had just picked up dropped from your hand in shock as you were more focused on trying not to drool. Just before you bent down to grab it she softly put her hand on top of yours. "Don't worry dear, I'll get that for you." She squatted low on her heels as she reached, her dress rode up even higher, the slit where her panties should be. The reality hit you like a train. She wasn't wearing any panties. There was no material other than her dress showing when you looked, only smooth, creamy skin.

Miss Mills stood back up and leaned in close, dropping the pen onto the desk. "I hope you enjoyed the view." She whispered, a wicked smirk graced her lips as she strutted back to her desk, eyes twinkling with mischief. She sat on her desk, crossing and uncrossing her legs directly in my line of sight. My god this was going to be a long hour.


End file.
